


everybody wants to take you home tonight

by queen_ofdisaster



Category: Lovely Little Losers
Genre: F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6116944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_ofdisaster/pseuds/queen_ofdisaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's girls night out when Meg decides Freddie is her girlfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	everybody wants to take you home tonight

**Author's Note:**

> A fake dating fic for Lovely Little Femslash week.
> 
> Title from 5 Seconds of Summer's 'Don't Stop'

"Peter, babe, two more shots for me and my girl," Meg orders, one hand shooing Peter away to get the drinks, the other falling on Freddie's knee, squeezing it affectionately.

"Only one more, Meg," Freddie says, her drunken giggles ruining any attempts at sounding strict and firm. "I mean it."

"Didn't you say that two shots ago?" Meg questions, smirking. She knows by now that Freddie has a hard time saying no to her. Freddie herself doesn't know why that is, but she's accepted it. Meg's very persuasive.

"Besides," Meg continues. "It's girl's night. We deserve to have a few too many."

She squeezes Freddie's knee again before finally pulling her hand away. Freddie kind of misses it once it's gone. She's tempted to scoot closer. She's drunk enough to do it. She's considering it when Peter comes back, sliding them their shots.

"I'll get this round," Freddie offers.

"Oh, you're the best," Meg sighs dreamily and winking at Freddie, who blushes in response.

Freddie pulls some cash out of her clutch, handing it over to Peter.

"Still so weird," he mutters as he counts her money before putting it away. "You and Meg being such good friends… I never saw that one coming."

Freddie thinks she should be offended by this comment, sure it's some sort of insult somehow, but she can't find it in her to care tonight.

"Meg's great," Freddie says. "Why wouldn't we be friends? She's literally so great."

Peter chuckles. "So you said. Seems like you're not the only one who thinks so."

Freddie furrows her brow, confused, until Peter nods at the girl beside Freddie. She turns to look at Meg, only Meg's back is to her now, and her attention is on a guy who'd approached her.

Oh.

Freddie's not disappointed. She's really not. It's just, well, it was _girl's night._ They'd agreed no romancing people.

Peter's left her now, to serve other customers, so Freddie takes her shot, swallows it down and considers leaving now that Meg seems occupied. But before she knows it, there's that hand again. She looks up, and sees Meg has turned back to her, and the guy is eyeing them. He looks from Meg, to Freddie, to Meg's hand on Freddie's knee, and back to Meg.

"As you can see, I don't think my girlfriend here would appreciate you flirting with me," Meg says, and Freddie's eyes widen.

 _What_ did Meg just call her? Her _girlfriend_?

She's far too drunk to comprehend any of what's going on, but it's Meg. So she plays along anyway.

"Yeah," she says, weakly. Then again, in a firmer voice as she looks at the guy. "Yeah. My girlfriend. She's not interested."

"I say we let her decide on that, huh, sweetheart?" the guy tells Freddie, and she glares at him. Dick.

Meg's hand inches further up Freddie's thigh and Freddie is even more confused now by the way that's making her feel. Meg's fingertips are now lingering at the hem of her shorts. Freddie finds herself staring at Meg's hand as Meg speaks.

"You can go," she tells him. "Now. I'm only interested in my girl here. Bye, bye."

She pulls her hand away to wave him goodbye, and again, Freddie misses the contact the second it's gone.

"Bye," Freddie says, finding the strength in her voice that it'd lacked earlier. The guy stares at them for another moment before finally turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Once he's out of sight, Meg scoffs. "What a tool. He wouldn't leave me alone when I said no to a drink. Thanks for going along with it, Freds."

Freddie watches as Meg picks up her shot glass and downs it. "'Course," she says, her eyes following the way Meg's head tilts back, and the way she licks her lips as she sets her glass down.

"Really, you're the best," Meg says. She hops off her bar stool to step closer to Freddie, pushing herself against her knees until they inch apart, and Meg settles in between them.

This is drunk Meg on perfect display here. She's affectionate and sweet and honest. A little pushy, as demonstrated by her literally pushing her way against Freddie and forcing her into a cuddle, but Freddie's not minding that much. Not in this case. Not when it involves Meg being so close to her. Meg could push a little more if she wanted, Freddie doesn't mind.

Meg throws her arms around Freddie's neck and pulls her in. She thinks she's going for a hug, but she doesn't. Instead, she just rests their foreheads together.

"You have become one of my favorite people of all time," Meg coos. "I mean that, Freds. You're actually incredible."

Freddie swallows hard and there is this overwhelming urge to kiss Meg. She's so close, and she's so gorgeous, and is saying things that are making Freddie's insides feel all warm and fuzzy. And yes, she's drunk, but it's not like she hasn't thought these things while sober.

Meg is always beautiful and always lovely and Freddie might just now be realizing why she's so weak when it comes to her.

"Kiss me," Meg whispers, and Freddie panics because _oh God, can Meg read minds?_

"What?" Freddie asks. She pulls back, just an inch, to get a better look at Meg's expression. She couldn't tell if she was kidding or serious.

Meg glances out into the crowd. Freddie follows her gaze, and there's that guy again, watching them, a little suspiciously.

"He's just waiting for us to separate so he can snake his way back over here," Meg scoffs, rolling her eyes at him. When she looks at Freddie again, her face softens. "So, let's show him there's no chance of that happening, _girlfriend._ "

Meg bumps her nose against Freddie's and Freddie takes a sharp breath in. Before she has time to over think it, or change her mind, she goes for it.

Meg's mouth is soft against hers. She tastes like the same drinks Freddie's had all night, and like the lipstick she's wearing. Freddie's sure that when the kiss ends, the red make-up will be smeared on her mouth as well, but she really doesn't care.

She lifts her hand to Meg's face, cradling her cheek. Freddie loses herself in the kiss, forgetting why it's happening in the first place. Maybe it's a fake kiss, maybe they're just doing it to try and prove something, but all Freddie can think is how good of a kisser Meg is and how nice it feels to kiss her.

"See, this actually makes a lot more sense."

Freddie unintentionally breaks the kiss when she jumps, startled by Peter's voice in her ear again. He's grinning at them, looking amused but not surprised and Freddie's not sure what to think of that.

"My shift's over," Peter tells them. "You two lovebirds need a ride back to the flat?"

Meg smiles at him, bright and totally unfazed. "Yes, please, Pete."

 

* * *

 

Meg falls asleep, head in Freddie's lap, on the way back to the flat.

"So…" Peter starts, a knowing smirk on his face. He makes eye contact with Freddie, who's in the backseat, via the rearview mirror.

"Shut up," Freddie tells him. She doesn't want to talk about the kiss with Meg. Not with Peter, of all people.

Peter, as Freddie suspects, does not shut up. He never listens to her. "How long has this been a thing?" he asks.

Freddie wonders if she should be honest with Peter, and tell him about the thoughts she's had about Meg. Or maybe she should just be as short and vague as possible.

She opts for the latter.

"It's not," she answers. "Some guy was bothering her."

"Ah," Peter nods in understanding. "So, you played the fake girlfriend."

"Yeah."

"Didn't look like a fake kiss."

"Creep, why were you watching?" she asks, but knows Peter will know she's kidding.

He does, but still scoffs in mock offense. "You're deflecting."

"So, let me deflect," Freddie demands, not denying it.

Peter laughs to himself, but doesn't say anything else. Despite not saying a word about her feelings for Meg, by the time they get back to the flat, she feels like she's revealed too much.

The two of them try, and fail, to wake Meg. She's out cold. Peter carries her bridal style all the way up the steps. He's a little out of breath by the time they reach the door, but he doesn't complain. (Freddie's sure he will in the morning when Meg's awake to hear it.)

It's late. Freddie knows Ben's fast asleep by now, and even though Balthazar often waits for Peter to come home from work, the light is off in his bedroom and there's nothing but silence. So Peter and Freddie whisper as they enter the flat.

"Where do I drop her?" Peter asks.

There are two couches, but Freddie knows Meg would prefer waking up in an actual bed. Plus, she'll be hungover in the morning, and people will be moving around the living room. It just doesn't make sense to put her on a couch. It'd be quite rude, actually, Freddie reasons with herself.

"Freds?" Peter pushes when she doesn't answer quickly enough.

"Um, my bed, I guess," Freddie tells him.

She follows him in that direction, letting him nudge her door open and gently set Meg on Freddie's bed. Once he does, Meg curls up on her side.

"Thanks, Petey," Meg whispers, voice sleepy and soft, and her eyes closed.

Peter opens his mouth, staring in surprise. He looks mildly annoyed. "You were awake this entire time?"

"You were bouncing me around when you were carrying me up the steps, how could I sleep through that?" Meg questions, yawning at the end of her question.

Freddie shrugs. "She has a point."

Peter doesn't say another a word, glaring at Meg though she never opens her sees to see, then turning and leaving the room. He doesn't shut the door, so Freddie does. When she turns around, Meg's eyes are open and staring right at Freddie. She swallows hard.

"Tonight was fun," Meg says, smiling a slow, lazy smile.

"Yeah, it was," Freddie agrees.

"Lay with me?" Meg requests, and Freddie's already crawling into the bed next to her.

They both kick off their shoes and climb underneath the covers. As Freddie gets situated on her side, Meg rolls over to face her.

Freddie doesn't say anything. Neither does Meg. Freddie feels like there's a lot that needs to be said, but for once, can't fill the silence. She can't even form a coherent thought, not with Meg staring at her like she is. Like she's studying her. Like she already knows everything she needs to. Like she knows something Freddie doesn't. Maybe she does.

"Sleep well, Freddie Kingston," Meg whispers. She moves her hand on top of Freddie's, and Freddie lets Meg lace their fingers together. "My beautiful girlfriend."

Meg laughs softly, like she's kidding, continuing the running joke from earlier. But her voice is sweet and it makes Freddie's stomach flip.

"Goodnight, Meg," Freddie responds, watching as Meg's eyes flutter closed.

Freddie lays there awake. She doesn't know for how long. Long enough that she's still up when Meg falls asleep, and Freddie listens to her breathing even out as she does.

Long enough that she hears someone, Balthazar she thinks, shuffle past her room to the bathroom and back again.

She's awake long enough that she hears the first bird start to tweet outside. That's when she finally falls asleep. She's not particularly comfortable, still laying facing Meg. Still holding her hand. But she's not sure she wants to move. So she doesn't.

 

* * *

 

 

Freddie is no longer holding Meg's hand when she wakes up. When Freddie wakes up, she's flat on her stomach, face smushed into her pillow. It's quiet around her, and she briefly wonders what time it is and where everyone is, because there's usually some sort of noise around the flat. Those thoughts are quickly replaced with other ones as she rolls over and her leg hits something.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty."

It's Meg. She's not laying beside Freddie anymore, but she's sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, facing her. She's still in the same clothes from the night before, hair and make-up still a mess from her sleep, and she has her phone in her hand, but she puts it down as she sees Freddie waking up.

"Balthazar made a delivery," she tells her. Freddie looks to the nightstand where she's gesturing and sees two cups from Boyet's.

"Angel boy," Freddie sighs. She sits up and reaches for the nearest one. It's full, and still warm, and Meg doesn't protest as she grabs it, so she assumes it's hers. She takes a sip. Perfect.

"Knocked on the door at like, nine with them," Meg scoffs. "As if we weren't in here, sleeping and hungover."

Freddie shakes her head. "No manners, that boy," she says sarcastically, and then asks, "What time is it now?"

"It's only ten," Meg says. She makes a grabby hand towards the other cup, and Freddie grabs it and passes it to her. "Thanks, babe."

"You didn't go back to sleep after Balth brought these?" she asks.

Meg shrugs. "I just stayed up. Besides, you're such a cute sleeper."

"You watched me sleep?" Freddie questions. "I drool."

"I saw no drool," Meg laughs. "Just cute. You know, I dreamt about you last night."

Freddie's cheeks flush. "Oh?"

"Yeah, I dreamt about us kissing."

Freddie panics for some reason, thinking that Meg had been so drunk she didn't remember that they'd kissed. She tells herself it's not a big deal either way, yet it feels like it is. Thinking that Meg doesn't entirely remember their kiss almost _disappoints_ Freddie.

"That… was actually real life…" Freddie tells her. 

Meg laughs. "I know that, Freddie. I'm saying I continued thinking about it in my sleep."

That hadn't been the response Freddie was anticipating.

"You're a pretty good kisser, Freds," Meg adds, a mischievous smirk on her face. "I liked kissing you."

For a lack of anything better to say, Freddie stammers out, "Thank you."

Freddie watches as the confidence falters on Meg's face as she asks, "Did you like it?"

It's a weird side to see of Meg. Vulnerable. Unsure. It's nothing like the girl she's come to know and love, but it's not a bad thing. Freddie likes seeing multiple sides of Meg. She'd like to know _all_ sides of her one day.

"I'm… not sure," Freddie answers. It's only a half lie. She liked the kiss. Didn't like the circumstance. "I mean, it's not like it was a real kiss, right?"

Meg furrows her brow. "What do you mean by 'real' kiss?"

"I mean that, you only did it because that of that guy, it isn't like you actually wanted to kiss me."

"Who says I didn't want to kiss you?" Meg replies, and Freddie sees that her confidence is back as she scoots forward. They're still facing each other, and Meg is closer now. Freddie's heart is pounding in her chest.

"You did?" Freddie asks.

Meg smiles, nods and as soon as Freddie sees her start to lean in, Freddie meets her halfway, pressing their lips together. It's considerably chaste, compared to the kiss from last night. And it doesn't last long, as Freddie pulls away after a moment, but it's sweet and gentle and makes Freddie grin so big her cheeks start to hurt.

Meg's grinning just as big, much to Freddie's delight.

"You like me?" Freddie asks, as if that hasn't more or less been confirmed by the kiss. She just wants to hear it, just to be sure.

In response, Meg kisses her again before breathing out, "Oh, babe, you have no idea."

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @ petersdonaldson


End file.
